Do I Find the Spirits of the People or Not?
- Jarir expresses in his poetry:
Do I find the spirits of the people or not?
Indeed, all who are invested in matters seem to be agitated.
When she smiles, she reveals a sunset, as if she were
The harbingers of a cloud that begins to rain and flickers.
This yearning has awakened a sickened eye,
Which turned it into dust that the eye used to delight in.
With a graceful glance, it shakes off the dew early,
The dawn unveils its beauty as the day breaks.
I have granted Amr a judgment from Umama,
And for the trader, Umama offers greater profit.
The heart awoke from Salma, where it had suffered,
And what it encountered from Tamader was more distressing.
I saw Suleimah indifferent to what ails us,
And indifferent to a need that cannot be fulfilled.
When Asma journeyed alongside the caravans one day,
Asma was the most radiant among those departing.
They remained close to Asma’s tent, and anchored
By the embrace of Asma, where the scents were most inviting.
Suleima states there is no comfort in separation,
Indeed, some partings offer healing and relief.
I love you; indeed, love is the voice of passion,
And what lies between us is almost overwhelming.
Will you not deter those who speak ill of me
As I am concerned behind you, defending myself?
Have you seen Salma? I have not encountered one like her,
A dear friend who is visited and praised.
And my heart was captured by her, along with memories
That recall Salma on distant paths, bringing me joy.
When I visit her one day from the passage of time,
A change of atmosphere will have taken place among the people.
For there is a divine gaze that continually remembers her,
In every case, it begins to break and spill forth.
The leader of my yearning and passion has not ceased,
When I arrive, it is almost as if I am revealed.
I preserve affection from the fear of being cherished;
There are watchful eyes and enemies from the people exposed.
What a steady longing has possessed me,
That the soul nearly succumbs to the yearning.
How stark is the day between quietude and weariness,
When the swift steeds gallop and depart.
What do you keep us from when the couriers have passed?
Fronting the steeds and their runners.
We measure the remnants of the pathways against the stones,
While they are elegant over the soft terrains.
And on a day of the Gemini, igniting the stones,
The brows of the eyes nearly call out from the heat.
Severe heat is harsher than the sun when it rises,
With its scorching ire one sees through.
The drums of the noble steeds resonate,
I have shown him my face, and it was as if
Out of exhaustion and fatigue, a copper hue appeared.
Did you not know that the dew is part of my nature,
And every close one seeks gain from sharing?
So do not detract from my ability to witness a raid,
That takes ease in scorn, while you relax.
Oh, I Miss the Abode with Sa’d, Indeed
Oh, I miss the abodes of Sa’d, indeed,
For the love of Fatima is in the home.
Those who journeyed wished to grieve me,
So they pierced my heart, leaving it shattered.
Your tears overflowed on the day of strength,
For the pure had a need to be remembered.
I spend the night, awaiting every star,
Wherever it appears, then it vanishes.
His heart longs as the eye faces
The paths of tears, rising and falling.
When your people arrive, O Suleima,
Beyond the lands stretching vast and far.
And the heart calls us to love her,
While the people of Jihma wish it were not so.
As if they ascend, carrying burdens from An-Nib,
Descending to ruin along its base.
When they arrive, they build upon it,
Houses of disgrace and feeble pillars.
National disgrace flows like a river of shame,
Though they were a source of graceful repose.
Did Al-Farazdaq not witness the fate of a coward,
His misfortunes crashing upon him?
Whenever you came to someone’s house,
You departed in disgrace while leaving them exposed.
You married Nawar without intention,
Aspiring from the overthrow of Abu Nawar.
For your sake, O Farazdaq, the faith of Layla
Visiting the true is a cherished matter.
After marrying Layla, the noblemen linger,
Bearing tales on your behalf.
Did you not fight our war, but for your kind,
That through the bitter was delayed this dread?
Did I not advised against leaning toward the clime of Qurta,
Where the abominable plotters took their stance?
Rest assured, O Son of Hujjah’s story,
You will find yourselves assured by the provisions and aids.
The worshipers lay upon me; a barrier stands,
Forewarned of death and the mighty floods.
Did we not know that after demands,
On the day of alarming dread, they would retreat?
And they cut with swords when they encounter,
The valleys of horses separating the winds.
And I pierced through where the lances conflict,
When the dust was raising its tempest.
Then praise shall be bestowed wherever one dwells,
Victory shall become honored as a guardian.
Our wrath on the day of Takhafsa, that you knew,
Stripped the kings to yield requests.
Our noblemen are `Ataybah and Ibn Sa’d,
And the heart of confrontation is always nearby.
Among us are the boroughs and the sons of Qays,
And our knight who deterred ruin.
What use is scoreboard in the sky, O Son of Iqal,
And why shall the glowing moon linger?
And we are the flame that ignites in every region,
The enemy fears the sight of it.
Would you forget Al-Zubayr and the tribe of Awf,
When Awf gains increased power?
Did Salma Rise Early, Indeed?
Did Salma rise early to invigorate her dawn,
And cleave the joint after gathering her kin?
If we asserted that separation had advanced,
Salma’s tears would flow, or she would bring from there.
She has lush reeds that are full of melody,
The anklets of Salma ring as her boundaries.
If we could not grant Salma a visit,
Our breaths would yearn for her presence.
Will you convey that need for embedded hospitality,
That slow-moving, temperate journey to her?
Salvation will arrive at her shade,
Within the shelter of its cover, despite the long heat.
Oh, I wish for news of Salit, is there none to inform?
Is Salit other than Ghasan providing a refuge?
They embedded their lineage within a shameful tale,
Yearning for a remorseful heart marked by its guilt.
You will discover what offers wealth: knowledge and position,
Should war not return with a peace ambassador.
Oh, what disgrace might befall Salit if she becomes grand,
The threats of harm growing larger all the while.
Those disgraceful among them are devising their plans,
While the troops hasten when they set attack.
Yet within Salit, there is no vigilant warrior,
Her fortress shall remain on the day of restless quarrels.
Sound the drums of caution to alert anyone you hear,
And surely you will fend off the horses’ advance through blood.
I am astonished by the caller, Juhaysh and their guide,
As `Aysah rushes through their love-laden news.
Are they enthusiastic, even when the sheep are welcome?
What has `Aysah attempted, and what is her excuse?
When you find yourselves gathering dust, bring honor,
Juhaysh, when already summer is departing from there.
People think they are emboldened by their garments,
For therein lies a tradition that bears a sordid reputation.
When we say a group from Salit, may it be dull,
They are both mounted riders and ill-bred announcers.
I admonished you against riding a rooftop,
From which a war’s herald announces soon.
And are you not holding patience to defend it?
Grasping the tender likes or scorn its making?
You wished to reclaim the valley and its people,
Yet such aspirations led Juhaysh to fail.
And once, in a stretch of land, a stream once flowed,
Hardened until familiarity with its course was unmade.
They concluded, do not bring back the lofty fort,
Which sends the affairs of the beloved to the sea.
As if those from Salit are trapped like vermin,
Like foundational structures dreadfully activating.
Did you become angry with it or mock its tale?
For green grass sprouts from the depths of the heaves.
If wisdom had a beneficial role in governance,
It would not envy the innocent, bearing harm naturally.
The sons of the reckoning and noble-led days,
Dismissed you from darkness and split the light.
And in the fortress’s well, she is restored by observation,
And returned once, twice, at her expense, anew.
Then we arrived, and the land restored its murmur,
With burdened paths that found no one to stir it.
If only it leads once, escaping judgments,
What is it to the envy of Awf that builds beneath her?
I would greatly prefer to acquire the furthering beauty,
Behind the alluring call that melts among you.
When their women encountered hardship at the edge,
Then the deceptions lesser and fewer became celebrated.
The Mixed Crowd Has Departed Even if They Delayed
O Mother of Uthman, indeed love stems from disgrace,
It entices the patient and brings tears to the eyes at times.
She withheld from a source that had been our blessings
Healing the heart rendered as a captive; once reigned.
How will we reunite when your presence is non-existent,
For near is our point of origin and reflecting light.
We cherish the soil of origin, even if deprived by your absence,
As the soil lacks, while the separator remains apart.
What has time brought that you are well aware of,
Whether the bond was broken, enslaved, or lost in trust?
Has night changed, causing the stars to linger,
Or has it stretched so long that I feel stars lost in daze?
Indeed, the eyes that possess gazes have entrapped us,
Killing us, yet they failed to revive our defeats.
They knock the resolve down until movement is ceased,
While they are undoubtedly the frailest beings of our kind.
Oh the envy of those who have not sought you,
Finding distance from you and facing deprivation.